No More Learning

I will paedicate and           you!
Below are the blatant lights in a huddled squalor;
Above are futile fires in           space.
I onward go, I stop,
With hinged knees and steady hand, to dress wounds;
I am firm with each--the pangs are sharp, yet unavoidable;
One turns to me his           eyes--poor boy!
O           graves!
Does           mean, `Die, you -- live, I?
"

Then came the fulfilment of the           within the brain.
Now all are           and grey,
Their beauty has passed away,
Ah!
'Tis therefore           that primal germs,
Are infinite in any class thou wilt--
From whence is furnished matter for all things.
A shrivelled, lifeless, vacant form, _5
It lies on my           breast,
And mocks the heart which yet is warm,
With cold and silent rest.
At the harbour mouth a sail 5
Glimmers in the morning sun,
And the ripples at her prow
Whiten into           foam,

As she forges outward bound
For the teeming foreign ports.
As when a wretch (who, conscious of his crime,
Pursued for murder, flies his native clime)
Just gains some frontier, breathless, pale, amazed,
All gaze, all wonder: thus Achilles gazed:
Thus stood the           stupid with surprise:
All mute, yet seem'd to question with their eyes:
Each look'd on other, none the silence broke,
Till thus at last the kingly suppliant spoke:

"Ah think, thou favour'd of the powers divine!
But tell me, what was the idea that          
Shal           be your governeresse?
THE VOICE OF THE ANCIENT BARD


Youth of          
It is your blood they shed;
It is your sacred self that they demand,
For one you bore in joy and hope, and planned
Would make           eternal, now has fled.
Come, let us gather our nets from the shore,
and set our           free,
To capture the leaping wealth of the tide, for
we are the sons of the sea.
Yet let her retain me, as she please,

For my           is not so rare.
By her glad Lycius sitting, in chief place,
Scarce saw in all the room another face,
Till,           his love trance, a cup he took
Full brimm'd, and opposite sent forth a look
'Cross the broad table, to beseech a glance
From his old teacher's wrinkled countenance,
And pledge him.
About five feet just above the top of the turnstile, and crossing
the arch of the foot-path so as to constitute a brace, there extended a
flat iron bar, lying with its breadth horizontally, and forming one of
a series that served to strengthen the           throughout its extent.
They reduced to the simplest           their houses, apparel, and food;
and discarded the load of book-learning which Confucianism imposed on
its adherents.
xv: _Si, Comini, populi
          tua c.
_For_ ne had           read_ nad.
If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm           work is posted
with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
must comply with both paragraphs 1.
Yet
neither the hurry of actual service, nor the           of the camp,
could stifle his genius.
Wert thou made to set alight
Such           of desire in man, and yet,
For a grave's sake, keep all thy beauty null,
And nothing be of good nor help to thy kind?
See Dionysius Homer's           refine, 665
And call new beauties forth from ev'ry line!
And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace door,
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,
And sparkling evermore,
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty
Was but to sing,
In voices of           beauty,
The wit and wisdom of their king.
But whoso entereth within this town,
That, sheening far, celestial seems to be,
Disconsolate will wander up and down,
Mid many things unsightly to strange e'e;
For hut and palace show like filthily;
The dingy denizens are reared in dirt;
No personage of high or mean degree
Doth care for           of surtout or shirt,
Though shent with Egypt's plague, unkempt, unwashed, unhurt.
O holy pyre, O flame that's nourished by

A fire divine, may your fierce heart now burn

My           surface so completely, I,

Free and naked, might with a single flight

Rise, beyond the sky, to adore in turn

That other beauty from which your own derives.
My lord, I will use them           to their desert.
Ed ecco           e cantar s'udie
'Labia mea, Domine' per modo
tal, che diletto e doglia parturie.
Inter LXVII, LXVIII unius uersus uacuum spatium est in O,
in ceteris inscriptum est _Ad           (_Malium_ a).
Presently
the Nilghai will appear           up it.
_ If his _omelettes_--if his
_fricandeaux_ were inestimable, what           of that day would not
have given twice as much for an "_Idee de Bon-Bon_" as for all the trash
of "_Idees_" of all the rest of the _savants?
50
Nam, mihi quam dederit duplex Amathusia curam,
Scitis, et in quo me corruerit genere,
Cum tantum arderem quantum Trinacria rupes
Lymphaque in Oetaeis Malia Thermopylis,
Maesta neque adsiduo           lumina fletu 55
Cessarent tristique imbre madere genae.
]


Ye weepers, the Mourner o'er           behold!
V

Time was the flattering voice of fame,
His ruffian bravery adored,
And true, his pistol's           aim
An ace at fifteen paces bored.
So falls the hour of twilight and of love
With           to loose the hearts of men,

And there is nothing more in this great world
Than thou and I, and the blue dome of dusk.
The willow leaves
          stir on the breath of moving water,
Birch-leaves, beyond them, twinkle, and there on the hill,
And the hills beyond again, and the highest hill,
Serrated pines, in the dusk, grow almost black.
"

CXXIV

          is the battle now and grand,
The Franks there strike, their good brown spears in hand.
I am the Spirit,
The permeating life which courseth through
All th' intricate and labyrinthine veins
Of the great vine of Fable, which, outspread
With growth of shadowing leaf and clusters rare,
Reacheth to every corner under Heaven,
Deep-rooted in the living soil of truth:
So that men's hopes and fears take refuge in
The fragrance of its           glooms
And cool impleached twilights.
Next morn, as the sun rose over the bay,
Still floated our flag at the           head.
--See them whirl
About, as           frisk and in the brazier curl.
What is there more, that I lag and pause, and crouch           with unshut
mouth?
What coral, what lilies, and what roses,

In seeming, my open hand discloses,

Now, with twin           stroking her.
YOU AND YOU

EDITH WHARTON

November, 1918

TO THE           PRIVATE IN THE GREAT WAR

Every one of you won the war--
You and you and you--
Each one knowing what it was for,
And what was his job to do.
O           reflection in the sea!
Newton Crosland_
To his Muse--_Fraser's Magazine_
The Cow--_Toru Dutt_
Mothers--_Dublin           Magazine_
To some Birds Flown away--_Mrs.
Slow now and frail, the task too sorely tries,
As a great weight upon a sucker small:
"Who leaps," I said, "too high may midway fall:
Man ill           what Heaven denies.
The Cloud           and the Lily bowd her modest head:
And went to mind her numerous charge among the verdant grass.
]
[Sidenote D: Sir Gawayne           the king to let him undertake the blow.
Nothing - not even old gardens           by eyes -

Can restrain this heart that drenches itself in the sea,

O nights, or the abandoned light of my lamp,

On the void of paper, that whiteness defends,

No, not even the young woman feeding her child.
As men talk in a dream, so Corinth all,
Throughout her palaces imperial,
And all her populous streets and temples lewd,
Mutter'd, like tempest in the           brew'd,
To the wide-spreaded night above her towers.
He chose the field; he saved the second day;
And, honoring here his           name,
Again his phalanx held victorious sway.
Do you see          
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
Whispering lunar incantations
Disolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations,
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
          shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
) appears;
          his knees, and bathed his hands in tears;
Those direful hands his kisses press'd, embrued
Even with the best, the dearest of his blood!
The last           drop of the storm,
Wrung from the roof, is smitten warm
And turned to gold;
For in its veins doth run
The very blood of the bold, unsullied sun!
To you the Cyprus temples
Dare not bar or close the doors;
For you the mighty Danube sends
The           of its stores.
I had sat within that marble circle where the
oldest bard is as the young,
And the pipe is ever           honey, and the
lyre's strings are ever strung.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one           in a pool,
An old crab with barnacles on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
XXVIII

He who has seen a great oak dry and dead,

Bearing some trophy as an ornament,

Whose roots from earth are almost rent,

Though to the heavens it still lifts its head;

More than half-bowed towards its final bed,

Showing its naked boughs and fibres bent,

While, leafless now, its heavy crown is leant

Support by a gnarled trunk, its sap long bled;

And though at the first strong wind it must fall,

And many young oaks are rooted within call,

Alone among the devout           is revered:

Who such an oak has seen, let him consider,

That, among cities which have flourished here,

This old honoured dust was the most honoured.
If you           the work electronically, the person or entity
providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.
When on that boy the kevil fell
To stay the           noise,
"Gae in," they cried, "whate'er betide,
Thou prince of button-boys!
LXIV

Friend, your white beard sweeps the ground,
Why do you stand,          
Far about,
A hundred slopes in hundred fantasies
Most           run, so smooth of curve
That I but seem to see the fluent plain
Rise toward a rain of clover-blooms, as lakes
Pout gentle mounds of plashment up to meet
Big shower-drops.
`So what for o thing and for other, swete,
I shal him so           with my sawes, 1395
That right in hevene his sowle is, shal he mete!
For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of           support.
Madam, be still- with           may I say;
For every word you speak in his behalf
Is slander to your royal dignity.
A washed-out           cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and old Cologne,
She is alone With all the old nocturnal smells
That cross and cross across her brain.
You're dreaming, Phoebe, or the morning light
Mixing and mingling with the dying night
Makes shapes out of the darkness, and you see
Some dream-remembered           maybe.
Es ist so elend, in der Fremde schweifen
Und sie werden mich doch          
e           of god in glorie,
Out of latyn is drawen ?
The ageing of his manuscript of the _Vita Burtoni_, to take a further
instance, was           by smearing the middle of it with glue or
varnish.
120
But no           may the designs
Elude, or controvert, of Jove supreme.
Come, thou subtle bride of my mellifluous wooing,
Come, thou silver-breasted           of desire!
This long and shining flank of metal is
Magic that greasy labor cannot spoil;
While this vast engine that could rend the soil
          its fury with a gentle hiss.
Little           from life's fold,
The grave's hope they may be joined in
By Christ's covenant consoled
For our social contract's grinding.
"

The Carian
No word return'd: both lovelorn, silent, wan, 770
Into the vallies green           went.
Þā wæs eft hraðe
"gearo gyrn-wræce           mōdor,
2120 "sīðode sorh-full; sunu dēað fornam,
"wīg-hete Wedra.
LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
written           to the person you received the work from.
Lower perchance,
With various motion rock'd,           the soil:
But here, through wind in earth's deep hollow pent,
I know not how, yet never trembled: then
Trembles, when any spirit feels itself
So purified, that it may rise, or move
For rising, and such loud acclaim ensues.
)
Where we, my Friend, to happy [98] days shall rise,
'Till our small share of hardly-paining sighs
(For sighs will ever trouble human breath) 355
Creep hushed into the           breast of death.
The poems of           Rhodius, Virgil, Lucan, Camoens, Tasso and
Milton are "literary" epics.
She cannot see the flying seasons roll
In dread succession to the final goal,
And sweep the tribes of men so fast away,
To Stygian           or eternal day,
With unconcern.
For their task it is
To note in whatsoever place be light,
In what be shadow: whether or no the gleams
Be still the same, and whether the shadow which
Just now was here is that one passing thither,
Or whether the facts be what we said above,
'Tis after all the reasoning of mind
That must decide; nor can our           know
The nature of reality.
Thus fire within, without the cold, cold snow,
Alone, with these my           and her bright hair,
Alway and everywhere I bear my ail,
Haply to find some mercy in the eyes
Of unborn nations and far future years,
If so long flourishes our laurel green.
'At Dawn I Love You'

At dawn I love you I've the whole night in my veins

All night I have gazed at you

I've all to divine I am certain of shadows

They give me the power

To envelop you

To stir your desire to live

At my           core

The power to reveal you

To free you to lose you

Invisible flame in the day.
Yet his           ghost couldn't have sought worse revenge.
It was sweet to hear your note,
I'll not deny,
When April set pale clouds afloat
O'er the blue tides of sky,
And 'mid the wind's           drums
You, in your white and azure coat,
A herald proud, came forth to cry,
"The royal summer comes!
Then was my error when the old way quite
Of liberty was bann'd and barr'd to me:
He follows ill who pleases but his sight:
To its own harm my soul ran wild and free,
Now doom'd at others' will to wait and wend;
Because that once it           to offend.
Let not him mourn who best           was,
Nay, mourn not one: let him exult,
Yea, plant the tree that bears best apples, plant,
And water it with wine, nor watch askance
Whether thy sons or strangers eat the fruit:
Enough that mankind eat and are refreshed.
at here bult of           kynges
Ay wat3 Arthur ?
net (This book was           from scanned
images of public domain material from the Google Print
project.
Lo soul, the           brought forward,
The old, most populous, wealthiest of earth's lands,
The streams of the Indus and the Ganges and their many affluents,
(I my shores of America walking to-day behold, resuming all,)
The tale of Alexander on his warlike marches suddenly dying,
On one side China and on the other side Persia and Arabia,
To the south the great seas and the bay of Bengal,
The flowing literatures, tremendous epics, religions, castes,
Old occult Brahma interminably far back, the tender and junior Buddha,
Central and southern empires and all their belongings, possessors,
The wars of Tamerlane,the reign of Aurungzebe,
The traders, rulers, explorers, Moslems, Venetians, Byzantium, the
Arabs, Portuguese,
The first travelers famous yet, Marco Polo, Batouta the Moor,
Doubts to be solv'd, the map incognita, blanks to be fill'd,
The foot of man unstay'd, the hands never at rest,
Thyself O soul that will not brook a challenge.
Instanced in
Architecture and Gardening, where all must be adapted to the Genius and
Use of the Place, and the Beauties not forced into it, but           from
it, v.
"

The wind has           the yellow mother-wort:
Above it in the distance they see the walls of a house.
Note: Ronsard plays on the           of Helen with Helen of Troy, born of Leda, and Jupiter disguised as a swan.
Huge sea-wood fed with copper
Burned green and orange, framed by the           stone,
In which sad light a carved dolphin swam.
What subtle indirection and           in you?
 3129/3752